at sixes and sevens
by displayheartcode
Summary: There's still chaos in a universe where everything is the same, except Molly and Arthur have six girls and a boy. [Gender AU - F/F, M/M]
**AN: MizMinola and c-is-for-circinate are the ones to blame for this fic because of their beautiful tumblr post.**

 **I finally have a story where everyone is gay/bi. I feel happy...but the bold/italics options aren't working on the site? I'll go over and add those later once my eyes are feeling less dead because I've been overworking them as of late.**

 **Okay, well, back to being stressed, depressed and a mess over spring semester! Please try to focus on a happier needs assessment project for your 600 level class, and now I need to go focus on getting everything set for finals. What fun.**

 **Disclaimer** : I'm the proud owner of a signed Brandon Sanderson book. That's it.

 **Title** : at sixes and sevens

 **Words** : 4K

 **Summary** : There's still chaos in a universe where everything is the same, except Molly and Arthur have six girls and a boy.

* * *

 **before**

Molly Weasley furiously chopped her carrots on the cutting board, muttering angrily about the state of things.

Her husband tried to placate her. He placed a hand on her upper arm. "Dear?"

"—the absolute _nerve_ of some people. How dare she say those things about my daughter that way? How dare that my daughters will end up in much happier relationships than to the basilisk that ended up with. I can't believe that woman—Arthur, I an wielding a sharp knife."

She swerved her head to give her husband the glare that she was saving for Mrs Fawcett, an unkind witch who was one of their neighbours.

Arthur took a safe step back.

Molly let out a deep sigh. She lowered her knife. "Sorry, dearest. I'm afraid my temper has been getting the best of me today. I'm just so mad." Her mouth stretched into a thin and disappointed line, her eyes quickly looking over at the family clock. "I want them all to be safe."

Arthur took her hands, and said clearly as looked directly into her eyes. "They will all be safe. Our girls are going to fall in love with witches or wizards who love them very much. "Molly, everything is going to be fine."

 **year one**

 **i.**

Harry Potter wasn't used to having friends.

He also wasn't used to having friends that argued a lot with each other.

Both girls were very much opposites. Rory was very tall, loved to have her hair styled prettily, and cared a lot about sports. Hermione was shorter, closer to Harrys' height. She didn't cared about makeup or her hair, but often had her nose in a book when Rory and Harry were talking about Qudditch.

Even after everything they had gone through with the Mountain Troll, magical traps, and the Philosopher's Stone, Rory and Hermione were still having their moments on the train ride home.

"And this one," Rory held a new piece of candy out, "can make you float a few inches off the floor!"

Hermione raised a disapproving eyebrow. "I'm more likely believe that'll rot your teeth."

"And what's so bad about that? Magic'll fix it."

Hermione sighed, but Harry laughed.

Rory tossed Harry the Ice Mice. "Here. This ought to give your cousin a good scare. Then you can both come to my house this summer."

Hermione's eyes lit up at the idea of visiting a wizarding family's house.

The doors to the compartment slammed open, and one of the twins poked their head through. Harry couldn't tell which one she was, but her blue eyes were lively. "I saw Felicity snogging Lee—"

With an 'urk', someone yanked on the back of her robes, suddenly pulling her away. Felicity appeared next. "Georgia has a big mouth because Angelina Johnson only went on one date with her to Hogsmeade."

Harry inhaled half of his Ice Mice. Hermione raised both eyebrows.

Rory rolled her eyes. "Will you two stop blabbering everything?"

 **year two**

 **i.**

"He thinks you're pretty fantastic," Rory said casually. "Hasn't shut up about you all summer." They were on the next flight of stairs, heading their way to her room.

"Gideon thinks I'm some hero?" Harry translated.

"He thinks you're something, all right."

"So, uh, he hero worships me?"

Rory stared at the boy that she and her sisters had rescued from his cruel and unloving relatives. She figured that she'll let Mum explain it to him, but Harry couldn't be that dense, right?

 **ii.**

Tom Riddle laughed coldly. The sound reverberated off the stone walls. "How does it feel, Potter, that you've lured to your death by someone who loves—"

"Shut up!" Harry shouted, wishing that he had his wand. The younger version of Voldemort was becoming more solid looking as Gid was becoming paler in his arms. Harry desperately wished that he had something that could help save them both.

"Saved by love, and now it shall kill you." Voldemort grinned triumphantly. Something in his features changed slightly in the darkness, his eyes a flash of red, his features more serpentine. Harry had never seen a face look so terrifying before. "How poetic."

Harry said, sounding much braver than he felt, "You still haven't won. I'd beat you twice, and it'll happen again!"

 **year three**

 **i.**

Sirius watched the redhead argue with the bushy-haired girl, feeling a brief sense of deja-vu. Isn't this familiar? he thought, lying down in the long grass, his tail wagging. He blinked and could have sworn that he had seen an intelligent Muggle-Born arguing with a stubborn Pureblood somewhere before.

 _Lily. James._

He blinked again and saw his godson's friends in their place. Poor kid was going to have to suffer like how Sirius and Remus and Pet— No, no Peter. Peter betrayed them all.

He had to move forward. He had to stop Wormtail and save Harry.

 **ii.**

Priscilla was the good girl. She was the daughter that Mother and Father had nothing to worry about. She received excellent marks, gained the position of Prefect, and was even Head Girl.

Her parents had nothing to worry about, like they did with Beatrice, Charlotte, and the others. Nothing to worry about the opinions of those at work or in their community. Everything was fine.

Under the library table, Priscilla felt Penny's foot gently nudge hers, the smooth pad of her thumb running over the back of the Gryffindor's palm.

Nothing to worry about.

 **iii.**

"'ermione?" Rory grunted, waking from her rough sleep. Her broken leg ached.

Exhausted, the bushy-haired witch collapsed by her side on the infirmary bed, careful not to jostle Rory's broken leg. "Long day," she muttered. "Long, long day." She plucked at a glittering chain that was around her neck. "S'why this year's been so weird."

Rory blinked. She blinked again to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "Have…have you been traveling through time?"

Hermione nodded. She yawned.

"Bloody hell, why would you do such a…" But Hermione had already fallen asleep on Rory's shoulder, the other girl was surrounded by Hermione's rose-scented shampoo. Rory awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Merlin! The things you do because you're the smartest…"

 **year four**

 **i.**

Rory was vaguely aware of Charlotte tugging on the back of her shirt, but all she could really see where the smiles of the veelas, their long hair dancing in the wind and their willowy bodies moving with such grace…

"Oh, come on," her older sister drawled. "Not all of you lot."

"Not all of us," Hermione harrumphed. She crossed her arms over her chest; a blush stained her dark skin.

Rory couldn't figure out why she felt a rush of something more than embarrassment.

 **ii.**

 _I'm gay,_ Rory, ready to have a terrible night while wearing a set of maroon and frilly robes, finally realized when her jaw dropped at seeing Hermione float across the dance floor with the surly Viktor Krum. _I'm gay. I'm really gay. I'm very gay. I'm gay I'm—_

And Harry stepped on her foot. "Sorry, mate," he said.

 _"Gaaah…"_ was all Rory could do. Struck speechless about how pretty Hermione looked in the floaty periwinkle robes, and by how much she wanted to punch Krum in the face again.

Harry waved a hand in front of her face. "Rory?"

"I…uh…" Coming back to her senses, she tried to sort out her not-so-sudden feelings for the smartest witch of their year. Her mind was filled with images of Hermione smiling beatifically, Hermione bent over a book with her frizzy hair covering her from view, Hermione with her keen eyes and intelligent manner, Hermione laughing, Hermione grinning, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…

 **iii.**

"Remind me why we're here again?" asked Charlotte, picking at the lace the decorated her sleeves.

"Because Priscilla wants us to help chaperon, and Mum wants pictures." Beatrice rolled her eyes, mimicking the hand gestures that Priscilla had made earlier.

"Looks like someone is lovestruck," Charlotte commented, ruefully running a hand through her short hair. She nudged Beatrice's shoulder with her goblet. "You have to see this!"

Beatrice let out a low whistle. "Never knew Rory could blush like that."

"How confused do you think poor Potter is?"

"I'll say very."

Charlotte thoughtfully tapped her chin. "You're gay, I'm ace, Priscilla is a mystery, the Twins don't like labels, little Gid's bi, and now poor Rory just realized that she is madly in love with her best friend." She thought more about this. "I wasn't expecting this to happen until next year."

Her older sister rolled her eyes, and she swiped some appetizers off a floating tray. "Please, like you haven't noticed the way she was looking at Granger during the World Cup?" After she said this, her expression immediately matched Rory's as a beautiful witch glided nearby, her silvery robes giving off a slight glow that enhanced her alabaster skin and blonde hair that was twisted into an elegant knot, not a strand out of place.

That look of being instantly smitten was the same one that not only Rory had, but the one that countless Weasleys had before her: her little brother when seeing Harry, Dad when running into Mum at the Dueling Club, and many more… It was a hopeless look that would also curse a good portion of the future generations of Weasleys.

"Ah." Charlotte stole Beatrice's appetizer and took a large bite out of it. The French witch had no affect on her. "I still don't see what you mean now."

 **iv.**

Subtlety was an unknown skill in the Weasley family.

It was why Rory was gifted _Twelve Fai-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_ for Christmas that year by Felicity and Georgia.

Gid had a good laugh about Rory needing a book, but he was given _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Wizards_ a year later.

 **year five**

 **i.**

Even being stuck inside the house that was like a twisted lovechild of the Shrieking Shack and the Slytherin Common Room, Rory had a hard time hiding her excitement about sharing a room with Hermione.

In a truly selfish way, Rory liked how she was able to have Hermione all to herself…but still had to share her with the doxies and other creepy things that were in the house.

"How do you think Harry's handling his sleeping arrangement?" Hermione asked. She looked up from her knitting, and frowning at thee direction where Harry and Gid were sharing their own room.

"You get Mr Grumpy with Mr Never-Shuts-Up, what do you think is going to happen?"

 **ii.**

"—and that's why the Tornados are going to lose," continued Gid, his face a brilliant shade of red.

"Their chasers," Harry tried to get in

"—are a mess!" finished Gid.

They were both breathing heavily from their argument, staring at each other.

Harry then realized that he was staring intensely at his best friend's little brother He had to break the silence. "Uh, you're dating Padma?" he asked awkwardly.

"Yeah. I am."

Harry stared at the wall. "That's nice."

 **iii.**

Fleur's laugh made Beatrice uncharacteristically weak at the knees. The French witch had her long legs draped over Beatrice's lap. "And 'ow does one say 'Je peux vous offrir un verre '?"

Beatrice struggled to string words together. "I, well…"

"Or 'ow about 'J'ai envie de t'embrasser'?" Fleur was sitting in her lap now, her curtain of her silver-gold hair fell between them. All Beatrice could se were her dazzling smile and the tantalizing column of her pale throat. Fleur leaned down to brush her lips against Beatrice's jawline. "You are a 'orrible teacher."

"Am I?"

"Oui, you are making me do all the work." Fleur gasped as Beatrice began kissing her way up her throat. "Oui, Oui. Like that."

 **iv.**

"Neville, do you mind I switch partners to help Rory?" Hermione rolled her sleeves up and walked over to her friend who was still unable to disarm Harry.

 _"Expelli—"_

Harry 's spell was quicker. He caught Rory's wand in one hand.

Hermione said, "Oh, come on, Harry. Shouldn't you be practicing with someone else?"

Harry laughed. "How many more times do you want to go?" he asked Rory, handing her back her wand.

"You're a specky git," huffed Rory. She was blushing. "Go drool over Cho as Hermione kicks my arse."

Hermione felt her smile flicker. She wished Rory wouldn't be so self-deprecating about her abilities. "Nonsense! You just need a better partner, that is all. Harry, I told Neville that you'll be his partner."

She shooed him away, and then flexed her wand arm. "Are you ready?"

Rory moaned. "This is going to be so embarrassing."

"It won't," Hermione told her. "Because I believe in you, and you will be able to disarm harry by the end of the meeting. Now show me what you're made of."

 **v.**

Harry knotted his fingers together. "Hey, uh, what if my dad might've had, say, a younger sister—or a brother! And what if…he…" He looked up and saw the flash of amusement on Sirius' face that quickly became more parental.

"There's a word for this," Sirius said.

"A word?" squeaked Harry. He quickly regained his composure. "I mean, yeah, of course I know that there's a word for this, why wouldn't there be a word for this? Hermione might even know more words for this."

Sirius waited a beat for Harry to calm down slightly. "Not just witches, eh?"

He remembered the thrill that he had when he and Cho kissed, and the similar feelings that he had about Oliver Wood's accent, the veelas at the World Cup, the smattering of freckles on Gid's face…

"I guess not," Harry admitted.

 **year six**

 **i.**

"I can see why Rory would be…drawn to her," Hermione said icily. She threw Fleur another dark look over her shoulder, glaring daggers as Rory laughed at another one of the woman's comments.

Gid put his fork down. He was now a lot less interested in his meal. "Are you jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous?" Hermione's grip on her silverware tightened. She spoke through her teeth, "Rory has every right to date whomever she wants."

She cleanly stabbed a parsnip with a fork.

Gid inched his chair closer to Harry's for safety reasons.

 **ii.**

They conferenced in one of the many corners of the store.

"How's your romantic progress coming along, sis?" Felicity asked.

Rory nervously checked if anyone was paying attention, but everyone was too enthralled in the pranks and other WWW supplies that they were buying. "There isn't any progress!"

"You read that book we gave you?"

"Well, uh."

"For the love of Merlin," Georgia sighed dramatically. "Do something to profess your eternal love to the witch."

"I can't just go up to her and sweep her off her feet! Hermione isn't like other witches!"

"All witches aren't like other witches," Felicity deadpanned. "Life's funny like that."

 **iii.**

"Tell me, Potter," McLaggen drawled. "Is Weasley more of a screamer or what?"

Wands were drawn.

"You have exactly five seconds to leave," ordered Harry darkly. The tip of his wand was already sparking with several nasty curses that were itching to be used.

Mclaggen's smile became more of a sneer. He looked directly at Rory. "Are the rumors true? The only reason why you're even on a broom is because you're riding Potter's—"

And Hermione came barging down the bleachers and punched McLaggen squarely on the nose.

Blood gushed, people gasped, and Rory ran straight into the chaos to lift Hermione off her feet in a glorious kiss that looked as though it came straight out of a fairytale, a leg raised in the air, the sun shinning, and even the distant sound of birds in the background completed the image.

It took Harry another moment to realize what was happening. "Did I just won the bet?"

Gid started swearing a blue streak next to him.

 **iv.**

There was much interest in the castle about Rory and Hermione finally dating. They could often be seen together, holding hands and blushing by the attention that everyone was giving them.

"I heard that they've been secretly dating for ages," whispered one of the younger students.

Their friend shook their head. "Nah, I heard that they were down in some secret chamber, and they had to fight off a giant snake with some roosters and a sword."

"How is that even romantic?"

"The kissing at the end, _duh."_

Neither of them noticed how the couple was laughing.

 **v.**

 _Dear Mum and Dad,_

 _I've written this to tell you about a recent development in my life. You see, after many years of thinking it over, and consulting various helpful books and people, I have realized that my friendship with Rory carries a different sort of weight than it does with Harry._

 _With saying this, I am pleased to say that Rory and I are now dating._

 _Apparently, our long-standing feelings have been blatantly obvious to everyone but us…._

 **vi.**

Harry had started packing, but found that in his grief, he couldn't. He sat on the floor, surrounded by his belongings and an opened trunk. He sighed and dropped his head in his hands, trying not to remember the sight of Dumbledore falling from the tower, or the words that were now haunting him since.

 _The cup, the locket, the snake, something of Ravenclaw…_ But Harry couldn't bring himself to finish his train of thought. The fake locket was already in his trunk with the note, and the quest had barely begun. _At least the Diary's gone,_ he silently added.

"Harry?" It was Gid. He stood awkwardly by the door.

Harry took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "Let me guess, Rory and Hermione wanted you to check in on me?"

"Nope. Just me." Gid spread his hands out. "Alive and well after my last exam. And now I've said that, I should go…"

"Wait!" Harry jumped to his feet. "I need to tell you something."

Gid froze, one hand reaching for the doorknob. "Oh?"

With a dry mouth and a wildly-thumping heart, Harry grasped Gid by the shoulders. "I won't be back," he admitted in a rush of words. "Rory, Hermione and I—we were given a mission, and we have—there's no other choice."

A part of Harry selfishly wished that Gid would start to beg him to stay, but the fire in his brown eyes said differently.

"Go be the noble hero," he told Harry. "I know you'll come back when you're ready."

 **year seven**

 **i.**

Sitting on the roof to watch the sunrise wasn't exactly what Harry had in mind to do before going off to save the world from certain danger.

But there he was, half a bottle of Firewhiskey left, his hand still threaded through Gid's on his chest. The redhead was snoring into Harry's shoulder, his body acting as a portable space heater against the early morning chill.

 _What do you want for your birthday?_ Gid had asked earlier.

There were a million things that Harry wanted. He wanted peace for everyone, he wanted a safe night's sleep; Harry wanted his friends to be happy, he wanted the war to be over, but he also wanted more of this—these moments of solace and normality that he could soak himself in like a good bath.

 _You,_ Harry had answered, the alcohol making it easier for the word to come free. His one last moment of happiness before the wedding started that next day. One last moment of something peaceful that could truly be his.

Gid muttered something in his sleep, a thigh curled over Harry's. The hand resting over his heart twitched.

And Harry smiled at him, his lips still tingling from all the kisses.

 **ii.**

Both brides were glowing with happiness.

White flowers and gold sparks were thrown in the air, throwing off colors in the bright summer light.

Harry watched at a distance, not feeling that he should allow himself to be so near them. He could see Molly crying happily with Apolline, and the dreamy smiles that Rory and Hermione were sharing.

 _Will I have this?_ he wondered, but he could only see Voldemort in his future.

 _... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..._

Harry saw Gid in the crowd, and felt his heart constrict. _I'm sorry that I can't have that future with you._

 **iii.**

Hermione was grinning ear-to-ear as Rory led her to the dance floor.

"We've been meaning to dance together for ages, right?" she said, her voice full of laughter.

Hermione moved in the circle of her girlfriend's arms as they struggled to mimic the other dancers. They laughed and kissed, marveled by the beauty of each other. Hermione stood on her toes, and kissed Rory again for all that it was worth, not caring how they were most likely creating a spectacle of themselves (and hearing Rory's Great-Aunt Muriel's gasp of that there were more of them in the family).

"You're brilliant," Rory said against her mouth. Her hands rested on Hermione's hips. "So brilliant and bloody wonderful—I might go blind by looking at you too much."

They were embracing, and everything felt true and wonderful.

 **iv.**

"Come back!" Hermione screamed. She stumbled over the forest floor, tripping over roots and slick rain. "Rory!"

She could see her girlfriend standing at a short distance away. Rory's was still clutching the Locket that was influencing her. "Why should I?" she snarled. "Why do you even care?"

Hermione reached out to grab her—to bring her close and tell her how much she loved her, how much she was needed, and that there was no way there were going to be able to complete this without her.

But Rory had vanished with a sharp crack that broke Hermione's heart.

 **v.**

Harry tried to dream of something that would bring him far away from the tent and the woods. He forced his eyes to close and he curled his body tight, his knees tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around him.

He knew from living at the Dursleys that this was the perfect position to be in the cupboard under the stairs. He could stay like this for ages and dream of marvelous things that would never be true.

Harry brought himself back the Burrow's rooftop. He brought back the feeling of Gid kissing him with the sort of blissful oblivion that felt like it could last forever. _Just give me something,_ he told himself, willing for the dream to grow. _Give me something that I want. Give me peace._

But the sound of Hermione crying in her sleep made the dream pop like a soap bubble.

 **vi.**

Rory found Hermione sitting under a tree, worriedly running her fingers over her wand.

She made herself known first. Rory coughed, but Hermione still looked straight ahead. She tried a different approach.

"Harry's, uh, Harry's doing okay. I don't think he'll be wanting to go near any body of water anytime soon." Rory awkwardly shuffled her feet. She took a deep breath. "I know what I did was inexcusable and it probably ruined every bloody thing that I care about—"

"You were being overshadowed." Hermione's voice was rough from disuse. She spared Rory a quick glance. "There needed to be a separation of you and the Locket for the effects to weaken."

Rory wanted to say something almost smooth, but she could nearly feel the locket with its heavy wait and strange pull. Useless it had told her in her darker moments. Always second best; a coward like Wormtail with no true talents.

But now it was broken remains in Harry's moleskin pouch. It couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

"Are you feeling any better?" Hermione asked suddenly, her words almost lost in the wind. She slowly uncurled from her couch, the tension almost visibly leaving her shoulders.

Rory sat next to her. "Loads," she said truthfully. She brushed some snow off Hermione's hair. "I still want to apologize for what I said before—"

"You weren't you." Hermione held her hand. "You don't have to apologize."

"But I want to because I…I…" Rory felt all of her breath leave her as Hermione's eyes became very wide, and her lovely lips created a soft 'O'. Their foreheads touched and Rory mumbled the words, feeling herself blush from head to toe. "I love you," she repeated. "Bloody hell, all I want is you, and I love you."

Hermione said the words back.

They sat together in the snow, their fingers intertwined and hearts lighter.

Harry found them later during a shift change, happily snuggled next to each other, asleep with soft smiles on their faces.

 **vii.**

Very slowly, Gid helped Harry peel off his clothes that were stuck to his skin with blood and dirt.

"Wanna go to bed," muttered Harry thickly, obviously needing sleep. He hissed as Gid dabbed the cuts on his knuckles with Dittany. "Ouch."

"Where else does it hurt?" Gid asked, running his fingers over the healed skin. He looked and took in the rest of the injuries that were scattered over Harry's narrow chest. His heart stopped for a moment when he saw the large, purpling bruise that had the bleeding lightning bolt scar over Harry's heart.

Harry followed his gaze. "I think that one hurts."

 _"Harry."_

"S'all right," he mumbled. "I'm back."

Gid cursed under his breath about noble heroes, and went back to cleaning and healing the minor wounds. He'd never expected that this would be the first time that he would have his almost boyfriend half-naked in bed, but he could feel Harry's pulse, hear the sounds of him breathing and being alive.

"Gideon, I'm back," Harry said again, but stronger. He held onto Gid's forearms.

"I can tell that, you bastard."

"Then come closer and let me kiss you."

 **after**

Molly, once again several years later after the war, was furiously chopping carrots in her kitchen. "I can't believe it!" she said, her voice rising. "Of all the nerve— _Arthur!"_

"I know," he said, lowering her hand that had the sharp knife. "Molly, you don't have to be upset about this."

 _"They eloped!"_

Carrots flew up in the air.

"My youngest baby girl married the love of her life, and we weren't there to see it!"

Moment done, Molly went back to her cutting board, but a million thoughts were forming in her mind. She stopped in mid-cut, the skin around her eyes crinkling.

"Arthur, do you think Harry and Gideon would like a summer wedding?"

* * *

 _"And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you."_

 **― Kiersten White**


End file.
